From the Ashes
by Eleve Osirian
Summary: Dernhil survives his encounter with the Hulls, but leaves Innail to protect Maerad and his friends; should the Dark learn of his survival, none would be safe. Maerad is plagued by dreams of him and begins to question his death; she searches for the truth
1. Prologue: A poet's heart

_I've made a trailer for this story, and would appreciate it if you could check it out!_ wwwDOTyoutubeDOTcom/watch?v=G5JPfTb6100.

-----**From the Ashes----**

**Prologue**

_A Poet's Heart_

* * *

A shroud of mist hung along the base of Osidh Annova. Wide swathes of glowing stars dotted the sky above the _Dhillarear_ë, bathing the School below in a soft light. Innail's many homes and watchtowers lay within the sight of the mountain range, embraced by a white stone wall that guarded it from the wilderness. A sudden spell of warmth had blessed Innail for several days and nights and it was clear that spring had finally arrived. The once barren landscape was waking up, its yawn bringing buds upon the trees, and newly calved animals to the fields. It had also brought a visit from Cadvan of Lirigon and a young, thin girl named Maerad.

A dull creak reverberated through the small room as Dernhil turned his attention away from the window. He craned his head and rubbed his dark eyes; the day's events had finally caught up with him. He'd been teaching students since dawn, listening to the insistent scratching of quills against parchment until night relieved him of his duty. The hours had crawled forward - frighteningly slow- as if time itself had been unwilling to move. He knew what caused the vexation, but he would not bring himself to utter her name. Instead, he scanned the worn sheet of parchment before him with a critical eye. The poem was only half-written, but it swelled deliberately, grand and majestic as the lines wove and curved inward to make a great coil of private thoughts. A great sense of accomplishment pulsed through the Bard's veins.

_I shall heal your wounded heart_

_I'll never let you bleed_

_No other thing shall hurt you_

_No world or moon or star_

_Nor whatever you say to hurt me:_

_For I carry your heart_

A warm smile lit his face. "Maerad," he finally whispered.

It felt like Maerad had been gone for an eternity, as if she had never graced the halls of Innail; to Dernhil, the memory of her seemed like nothing more substantial than that of a sweet, intoxicating dream. He shifted in his chair, and stared at the pen in his hand; he had seen into her heart. She had never been taught properly, and yet she was an excellent learner, fast and understanding. He had watched the natural talent awaken each morning, each lesson leading him to believe she would become a great scholar; her desire and obvious passion for learning matched his own. _Such a beautiful being_, he said to himself, his heart ravished by the allure of her vibrant spirit.

But she was still young; it took years to learn the ways of the heart. She'd mistaken his love for lust, and lashed out in fear. _How could I be upset at her actions? Gilman's Cot taught her nothing of love. I should not have kissed her. _He lightly touched the cut on his lip where she had struck him; it had only been a day since her departure. _Did she really believe I would hurt her? _

He propped his chin up on his hand. The fire had crumbled to ash, popping sleepily in its embers, and the light from the lamp fell peacefully across the tumbled books and parchments on his desk. _She accepted me, befriended me - needed me. Cadvan certainly ignored her while he attended to his errands. And yet I threw all that away. I leapt into the fire, only to burn. What have I done? Have I ruined all possibilities that existed between us? _He reached for the glass of wine he'd poured earlier. It was white wine - a bit too dry for his taste but he drank it quickly, its smooth, burning taste aiding him in forming the poem's last stanza. _No, she forgave me._ He picked up the pen and pressed it to the parchment.

_I shall carry your heart with me_

_I'll never be without it_

_No other fate I wish for_

_No world, or moon, or star_

_Nor whatever the sun will bring_

_Wherever you go, I will never be far_

A loud noise startled him. He looked up from his work, eyes wide with fear. The hair on the nape of his neck stood on end, and he shivered unconsciously. There came another knock, as if the door were being struck with a heavy staff. The door burst open. Two figures stood in the dark hallway outside his room. Dernhil rose from his chair as they walked into the light. They were heavily cloaked and booted in black, their hoods obscuring their faces, although he could see their eyes burning red. A chill, like that of a tomb, entered the room with them.

_Hulls. _He instinctively lifted his hands to summon his magery.

"You cannot ward against us!" said one of the figures sharply, making a strange motion with his hands.

Darkness seeped into Dernhil. A snake of ice slithered down his throat and fasten itself on his innards, gagging him and stealing his warmth with its poison. He could feel the intruders trying to force past the shield erected around his mind - like a thousand knife points digging away at his flesh. He winced. His strength faltered underneath such a tremendous weight.

"We have come for a little information, Dernhil of Gent. Help us and our master will reward you richly."

_Information? _Dernhil knew they had come to question him about Maerad. _The parchment, the lessons, the rumors that Cadvan had found a survivor of Pellinor... _

"I know who you are," he said at last, his voice thick with the pain rushing through him. He knew who the Hull had once been...what he'd done as he fell from the Light into darkness. "I'll not have any dealings with you or your kind."

The interlocutor lifted his finger, and Dernhil grimaced.

"Speak not so hastily," the Hull said. "You know not what you will do in this world or the next one, Bard. Think again. We hear you are teaching a girl. We want to know about her."

Dernhil stared at them steadily and said nothing. _Maerad, _an inner voice whispered. _What would happen if they were to find her traveling through the landscape, alone on the unguarded plains?_ An aura of light, recalling the luminosity of sunlight on summer trees or the radiance of a fountain, faintly outlined him. The figures hissed, drawing in quick breaths as both Hulls stepped back.

The first spoke again through his teeth, his voice tight with anger. "You will not easily survive such impertinence," he said. "But what is not freely given can be taken." He drew close to Dernhil, who was still unable to move, and took his chin in his hand.

Dernhil's eyes widened in disgust; he was mercilessly forced to look the figure in the face. The creature that had once been a Bard squeezed tighter, and the weight in his mind increased twofold. _It is too much. _The dark magery surrounded him in a tight, invisible vise and rendered him unable to attack.

_They are scrying me. _

First there was darkness, and the peace that came with being so consumed by it brought upon thoughtlessness. There was pain, unfocused, but somehow near at hand, like the touch of sun on skin already reddened and burned. It had gotten past his ward. He tried to push it away, but it continued to throb in the half-healed places in his mind, promising him more pain to come. Then the flashbacks began:

_His mother dying before him as he watched helplessly. Traveling to Lirigon to study. Meeting Cadvan. Meeting Saliman. Meeting Ellesta, Amgor, his freinds. Witnessing Cadvan's fall into darkness. The death of Ceredin. The death of his first love. Innail. Silvia. Malgorn. _

He heard himself speaking. "_A mist obscures the bright river, a mist on which no eye can fasten its sight, a mist that confuses the brave, and casts down the small in fear and trembling..."_

No. He had to resist, he had to defend his thoughts.

There was nothing but pain. Fire in his veins and under his skin, flames dancing along his nerves and scorching his mind. Black energy - a Hull's magery - became unmistakable. He thought his sanity would shatter or his heart stop. He screamed, or he thought he did. He was lost in it, and there was no way out - not even death, for the Hulls would not let him die.

It seemed they stood there for an age, engaged in a desperate, silent battle. He felt his defenses crumbling - he had but moments to devise a way to keep his thoughts of Maerad safe. He dreaded what they would do to Cadvan and Maerad if news of her bloodline reached Dagra.

"_Give up, Bard,"_ a menacing voice echoed in his mind.

In the safe recesses in his mind, he first thought of Ellesta: her delicate fingers, her strong nose, and her blue eyes...the way her lips had moved underneath his own when he pulled her to him so long ago. She ran across a great meadow, her hair cascading down her back, lush green foliage surrounding her. It was beautiful, peaceful...he never wanted to leave that place.

Magery clawed and scratched at his mind. Deep inside, he heard a gentle voice. "_Do not be afraid."_

"_I am not afraid." _The Speech entered him, swirling through his blood, giving him a breath of strength he desperately needed. Dernhil knew he could not outlast the onslaught. However, he could still act. He could still save his friends from the sharing his fate. "_I am not afraid of death." _

His body was numbed by his own magery as he waited patiently for the pain to end, for the torment to cease. He then remembered Maerad. _"Come back to me,"_ she whispered. _"Come back."_

_I cannot come bac... _He was cut off by the exhausting weight crushing his mind. The scene before was replaced by the ghoulish grin of the Hull. Knowing what would come next didn't make him cower. It meant victory. It meant life would continue. It meant Maerad would be safe. He smiled inwardly; letting the Light consume him was not such a bad thing. If he couldn't have Maerad, at least he would have Ellesta beyond the Gates.

Life was abandoning him, and with it his memories.

All except one.

"_Maerad."_


	2. Chapter One: 15 months later

------**From the Ashes----**

**Chapter 1**

_15 months later_

* * *

"_Maerad."_

Maerad opened her eyes in alarm and the charm she had been weaving faltered. The semblance faded and she let out a heavy sigh of disappointment; losing her concentration meant she would have to start the grueling process over again. She dropped her shoulders in defeat, daring to glance at Cadvan. He studied her silently, yet with much passion, his face shadowed by the great stone pillar he was leaning against. It took her a few moments but she realized why he was deliberately staring at her - he was testing her mind barriers. Determination swelled in her chest; her pride wouldn't let her lose after failing the first part of her lesson. Holding his gaze, she could almost see laughter in his eyes as she struggled to keep her mind clear and focused. He knew it was difficult for her to look at him and not think of their friendship and their love, and so he insisted on such lessons. He claimed it made her stronger, though she swore it was just for his own personal amusement.

She couldn't bear the weight of his penetrating gaze any longer. She shifted her eyes away, and felt a great relief wash over her as she crossed the room and leaned out one of the open windows. The loose tendrils of her dark hair blew back into the room, caught in a light morning breeze. Outside the window, the Innail Fesse stretched itself across the land, halted only a copse of firs along the horizon. "I'm sorry," she began hesitantly. "I should have concentrated harder."

"What happened?" he asked gently, unfolding his arms. "You were doing well; much better than yesterday."

_"Maerad." _That voice. It had been shockingly clear, as if the person who had called her stood next to her, gently whispering into her ear. She had heard it many times, and yet its effects hadn't changed. She still awoke to her heart hammering, struggling with an overpowering sense of despair. Only now, the vision had spilled over into her waking moments; it had worsened.

"I heard someone calling me again," she said quietly. "I've heard the voice before, I just cannot place who it belongs to. It usually fades before I understand what is happening."

"You've heard this voice before?"

Maerad nodded. Cadvan walked over to her and took her hands. "What does your Knowing tell you?"

Maerad bit her lip. "I don't know. My heart wants to solve this riddle, yet my head says there is no logic to it, and that I should just let it be."

Cadvan shrugged. "Logic is absent in many things. Be wary! The heart follows no logic, and if it is an answer you seek from it, your Knowing will be clouded."

Maerad frowned and pulled away; she didn't know what to think. "Come, you've worked hard enough today – what do you say we go for a ride? Like old times?" he asked.

"Old times? We just defeated the Nameless One no less than two months ago. I hardly consider that old times."

"Well?" An amused expression covered his face. "Will you grace me with your company, my lady?"

Maerad knew he didn't like staying in one place long, and as they'd been in Innail for over a month, she obliged. "Fine, but I'm riding with you. _Like old times_."

Cadvan smiled and kissed each of her cheeks, spreading delightful warmth across her skin before grasping her hand to lead her down to the stables.

o-0-o

After an exhausting day, Maerad was glad to return to her room. She didn't even take the time to change out of her clothes before she collapsed with exhaustion on her bed, falling asleep almost immediately. Some time in the middle of the night, she stirred uneasily and began to dream.

_She was outside Innail. She was able to look upon the earth-colored homes that formed the outer circle, and each of the consecutive rings of buildings that created the halls and students quarters. Several guards watched the plains lazily from the School's high towers; they often played games of Gis to pass the time. In the distance, the river glimmered softly, winding like a silver cord through the gray, dew-heavy fields. The wind rushed through the trees, a sound similiar to the sea. Nothing could be heard, save the stirring of sleeping cattle, and the lonely cries of night birds surprised by a hunter in its nightly wanderings. It appeared peaceful, but something felt out of place. _

_She heard the creak of a wooden door, and found herself before a cloaked figure hurrying from Silvia's house. It appeared to be a man, distraught and injured, though she could not tell who he was or what he was doing. She could feel the prickle of magery in the air surrounding him as he brushed past her on his way to the stables. She saw Indik there; sharpening his sword mindlessly, he seemed unbothered by the late hour. He peered up suddenly and his face paled when the figure entered and handed him a pouch most likely filled with money. She could see Indik's blatant astonishment; he looked like he had seen a ghost. His lips moved frantically but she heard nothing as he helped the man saddle a roan mare. Almost as quickly as he had arrived, the Bard turned and outstretched his hand towards the sword-smith and an unbearable flash of light consumed the stable. Before Maerad could understand what had occurred, the Bard rounded the corner with his horse and disappeared into the night. Indik returned to his task; bending over the grindstone as if he'd never been interrupted, a blank expression covering his worn face._

_The image then shifted itself and she could see mountains, the same steep, craggy slopes of Osidh Annova she had crossed with Cadvan in their escape from the Cot. She heard a soft singing, like that of a whisper carried by the wind, coming not far from the mountain's edge. The voice was familiar, but like in so many other dreams, she couldn't place it. The melody was also familiar; Cadvan had sung it many times along their journey. It was sad song, about a Bard who had lost his first love, and she wondered whom the singing man grieved for. _

_The farther she journeyed forward, the denser the forested area grew with spikes of birch and elm, and undergrowth of small pines and hemlock. The forest was cloaked with blackness that seemed to breathe and swell before her under the shadow of the huge mountain face. Even the trees seemed to lean towards the sorrowful voice, bent in still grief. For what seem like an eternity, she waited there, lost in the rhythm of the lay, until she saw the man sitting under a nearby tree. She stepped forward, thinking to finally see his face. His song faltered and he looked up. It was Dernhil. _

Maerad woke with a start.

She sat up in the dark, her flesh goose-pimpling, and beads of sweat running down her forehead. The moonlight filtered in through the window and splashed the floor with dim light. Outside she could hear the roosters beginning to crow and she knew morning wasn't far away. A shiver ran up her spine; she listened, but she neither heard nor felt anything similar to her dream. _Dernhil_. How had she not recognized the cry, which from a deep abyss called her name in an extremity of anguish?

She cursed and throwing her legs over the side of the bed, she buried her face in her hands. _Why won't it end? Why am I the only one who is tormented nightly by his death?_ She looked down at the dress she was wearing and, deciding that changing would make her feel better, she donned a forest green dress. She rather fancied the color; after wearing blue for the past year, green was a welcome change. She buckled the clasps in the back, and walked towards her door. She needed answers.

The hallway outside her room was lit with pleasant lanterns shaded with thick glass that sent circles of light downward onto the wooden floor. Her feet padded silently against it. She concentrated on getting to her destination, though, not taking time to linger with open expanse at her back; it made her uneasy to feel the emptiness, to hear nothing but her dress swishing against the floor. Finally, she came to a white-washed door and knocked quietly.

She heard shuffling and eventually it opened. "Maerad?" Cadvan asked groggily. He motioned with his hand for her to enter, and closed the door quietly behind her. "What brings you here at this hour?"

_It's going to sound ridiculous,_ she thought to herself.

Cadvan seemed to catch the tenor of her thoughts and shook his head. "Forgive my manners. Do you want a drink?"

"No, thank you," she replied, a shiver running up her spine all the while. It wasn't being in Cadvan's room that bothered her - she had come here several times since their arrival in Innail, to talk with him or to enjoy a few moments alone together – what she was about to confess and how foolish it sounded made her nervous. "My dreams are getting more vivid, Cadvan. I can feel things now, and react in my dreams as if I were awake. I know I said I didn't know what to think, but I feel like they are fore dreams, only of the past."

Cadvan filled a glass with Laradhel and drank it to staunch his exhaustion. "Perhaps that is what it is - a road in the past once taken by whoever it is that plagues you- but that's all it is. Perhaps you should see the healer…"

"The song you used to sing," she began urgently. "Who wrote it and who was it about?" she asked impatiently, grasping his shoulders. "I saw who was singing tonight, Cadvan, and I couldn't believe I didn't realize it before. It was Dernhil."

Cadvan blanched, but he didn't react otherwise. He loosened her grip on his shoulders and moved towards his bed, where he motioned for her to join him. Sitting down quietly, she waited for a response; a response she knew was churning and forming in his mind.

"It is a song Dernhil and I wrote long ago, in a darker time," he answered simply. His eyes seemed a bit glazed, as if he was seeing some distant place and in some different time. "When we had both lost those which were closest to us, he had begun it but couldn't finish- it was too much of a burden for him to think of her…"

A pang of jealousy washed across her and she wished she hadn't asked. She felt ashamed for asking, but listened to the confession nonetheless. "Anyway, I came across it one day and decided to finish it. But I'm curious to know why you dream of such things. That happened long before you were even thought of."

"I don't have any answers Cadvan; but I don't think it was that long ago. I saw him…leave Innail. He talked with Indik, and I think he put a spell on him so he wouldn't remember. Then I saw the mountains we crossed and a forest. He was there, singing that song, waiting…"

Cadvan sent her a skeptical glance. "Anhil took his ashes to Gent, and you saw him approach you with the rest of the dead before the singing, yes?"

"Yes." Maerad saw the news seemed too much for Cadvan to handle. Although the room was dark, she could see the sadness conveyed in his eyes discussing his friend, and it stung Maerad more than she thought it would. "I know it sounds impossible, but I know what I heard," she replied. "I know what I saw. Perhaps…perhaps Silvia is hiding the truth from us."

"Silvia would not lie, Maerad," Cadvan retorted harshly. "She is an honorable woman."

Maerad shook her head. " I didn't mean that she would lie. I only mean that perhaps to keep us all safe, she had to keep the truth hidden, just as we did from Bards we passed on our travels."

"This is different than that," he whispered so quietly, Maerad had to lean closer to hear him. "Silvia has nothing to hide from now that the Nameless one is gone." He examined his hands, and thought a moment before continuing. "Dernhil was murdered. Maerad. If you hear him, perhaps...perhaps he has found a way to contact you from beyond the Gates, though I've never read about such occurrences before in all my studies."

In an overwhelming rush of adrenaline, Maerad spoke up. "I need to go there. I need to see for myself."

"Go where?" Cadvan looked up into her eyes.

"To where I saw him singing."

"It was just a dream! Why must you insist upon torturing me? I loved Dernhil well; he was my friend, but he _died_. You have to let him go, Maerad."

Maerad saw a desperate look in his eye as he spoke these words. "You think I love him," she stated quietly.

"I merely fear that I am about to lose my own heart to my dead friend. You mustn't go."

"I 'mustn't'?" Maerad snapped. "What right have you to tell me what I must or must not do? I am going. I would rather go with your acceptance but if you refuse to support me I have no problem going without it."

Cadvan stared at her for a long moment, and she could see the storm in his eyes. He gave a long sigh. "I think you will be sorely disappointed. I think you are wrong. And I think it will break your heart. But if you do not go, I think you will waste your heart away. So though I do not like your decision, or condone it...I accept what you must do."

Maerad paused and then whispered, "thank you." Before she could think of what she had just committed to do, she left the room to gather her things. She would leave in the morning.


	3. Chapter Two: Leave Taking

------**From the Ashes----**

**Chapter 2**

_Leave Taking_

* * *

Maerad studied the bulging pack sitting on her bed. Beneath its leather frame were the items she would need for her journey into the wild: soft leather trousers and warm woolen shirts and jerkins, cunningly woven so they took up very little space when folded. Several riding dresses were stacked atop what Silvia had given her, which would be cool enough to wear in the late August heat waves. She stored a vial of Laradhel and her lyre in the protective leather cover Cadvan had given her. Its edges had been worn with use, but it was still beautiful; the tooled designs of silver flowers on its side had not been marred in her travels. In some ways, the marks it carried were reminders of what she had survived – an epic battle - and so she cherished it, just as she did the book Dernhil had given to her, which she had also packed. It would be enough to keep her comfortable until she returned - or so she hoped - and since she had finished clasping her cloak around her neck, she scooped the pack up gingerly and rested the strap on her shoulder before slinking to Hem's room down the hallway.

Irc's mind was the first she touched with her presence outside Hem's door. He chirped in alarm and confusion, unaware of what had disturbed him, though Maerad could tell that he had ignored the unseen threat and shifted back into comfortable sleep. She felt out Hem's conscious and found him to be asleep. She frowned. Leaving her brother would not be a simple task, but she couldn't risk waking him to say farewell. He would want to travel with her and it was a journey she wanted, no, _needed, _to take alone. "May the Light shine down on you, brother, while I am gone," she whispered. She then made her way to the stables.

It was obvious the way Cadvan leaned back against the stone wall beside Innail's gate and watched Maerad's approach that he had been waiting for her to come along. He held the reins to his horse, Darsor, as the animal cropped the grassy verge. "Are you ready?" He eyed her pack and as if guessing its contents, he continued. "I knew you would forget food so I went to the kitchens and brought some with me."

Maerad furrowed her eyebrows in dismay; how had she forgotten food? "Thank you for bringing it to me, Cadvan." She reached for his pack but he drew away with a smirk.

"I know you wish to do this on your own, and you shall. However, I am escorting you to the edge of the mountains. Therefore, I will keep this with me," he patted the side of his saddlebag.

Maerad would have retorted had his face not given away his regret long before he apologized. "Forgive me for what I said earlier, Maerad. Things said in haste are often mislead by irrational thoughts. I don't want things to be left unsettled between us while you are gone."

She smiled wryly and stepped towards him. His dark hair framed his face, and the scar beneath his eye stood out vividly, as if he strained to hold his emotions inside. "There is nothing to forgive, Cadvan." She stroked his cheek. "I am glad you are worried for me."

He answered her with a light kiss. "Then let us leave."

The crowds of people evaporated shortly after they had exited the Innail Fesse. After that, they passed only one other human being, an old man with skin the color of hemp rope camping in a bend of the river. The smell of his fire smoke hung over the water for the better part of miles before they trotted by his camp. The man was knee-deep in the river, fishing, and came out with his pants dripping and his feet bare. He took no notice as Cadvan had set a charm over them, so none would ask any question about their journey east.

As the dawn aged, fleecy clouds flew like banners from the farthest peaks on the distant horizon. Morning mists drew back from the valley like fingers combing the lush, thick grass. The leaves on the gnarled braches of the blackthorns made even those venerable ancients look sprightly. A copse of poplar tress glittered green in the hollow base of the valley where the Imlan River cut through the tall grass like a silver snake.

Cadvan had been relatively quiet. Every so often he met her gaze and smiled sadly, seemingly absorbing every last detail of her face to remember while she was parted from his side. It bothered Maerad to see his face so haunted, and at last she broke the silence.

"Are we going to stay in an Inn tonight?" she asked quietly.

Cadvan cleared his throat. "It is still early to be showing our faces around Edil-Amarandh; there are still dangers lurking in the corners of this world, biding their time until they can seek revenge for the death of their master."

"The stars it is then," Maerad managed a smile. "I should have guessed that; it is where you seem to be at peace."

"Aye," he answered distantly. "I suppose it is. Keep your eye on the road; the last time I rode through here, Darsor nearly stumbled and broke his leg. I don't want that to happen again." Maerad knew a dismissal when she heard one. She mourned the lack of communication, but unwilling to speak up, she enjoyed the time to think about her upcoming journey.

Cadvan led them into a stand of pines when it grew dark and unsaddled the horses. "It will be a cold night without a fire. I'm going to try to find dry wood; wait here."

Maerad nodded and sank beneath the thick, sheltering branches of the pines. Her breath curled like a ribbon of smoke rising in the cool night air, standing out against the darkness of the landscape. In the near distance, she could make out the forms of Keru and Darsor feeding on grass. Faint cries of animals could be heard, the sound of moving grass making her pull her cloak closer. The darkness was all around her, but she had grown used to its silent beauty. This wasn't the darkness of Sharma's making. '_These are the real children of the night; those who dance wildly and freely in the sky. No matter what happens here, they will always be there, a never ending source of light to brighten even the darkest voids in the heavens,' _she remembered Cadvan telling her this. Many nights she had slept under that same vast and endless sky, and Cadvan's words had brought warmth to her dampened spirit_. ''No matter what happens, I will be there.' _

Maerad frowned, and fingered a blade of grass in frustration. _You will not be there this time, Cadvan,_ she thought. _I will cross those distant mountains alone, and you will return to Innail without me. But surely it must be this way…_

Cadvan's footsteps interrupted her thoughts and she looked up to see his hands empty. "I suppose we could try burning these." he slid his fingers over the pine needles.

"Let's eat first," she said.

He joined her and fumbled through his pack, where he found biscuits and dried fruit. "Another hearty meal," he joked, passing her share to her.

"It wouldn't be traveling without it," she retorted. "It's the best food in all Annar!"

"In all of Edil-Amarandth is more like it!" He grabbed her free hand and squeezed it. "I should think even the finest chefs couldn't match this."

Maerad's smile faded as she looked down at her hand in his. "How much farther is it?"

Cadvan stilled and he gazed at her with questioning eyes. "If you wish to go through the mountain…"

"Which I don't," she interrupted.

"Then the nearest pass, to my knowledge, is sixty leagues due south from here, through bad country. I should hope it storms; despite the Landrost's loss of power, there are yet other things that watch over this realm."

"Of Sharma's making?"

"Perhaps," he answered. "I have traveled often over this land in my time, and I have heard neither rumor nor tale of the beasts that dwell in that forests. But they are ancient beasts, who no longer hear the Speech within themselves, which makes them far worse enemies than the ones we have fought before."

"Perhaps I am making a mistake," she admitted, sitting up. "Maybe I shouldn't have listened to my dreams. Maybe we should have stayed in Innail where it was warm, where I could learn…" she trailed off. "Sitting here with you now, I realize what I am leaving behind, and I don't know if I'm ready to abandon that for some animal that could kill us."

"There are many paths presented to us, Maerad. It is what makes us human, to chose a path, whether it is for wrong or right. I've come to understand a bit of what you told me, and perhaps you will find what it is you seek."

"And if I don't?"

"It is not to late to turn back," he answered simply. He took out a small dagger from beneath his cloak and cut off a few pine branches from above their heads. Creating a small pile, he held out his forefinger and said, _"Noroch"_. The sudden burst of flames caught the ends of the needles and they burned slow enough to allow Cadvan to cut larger branches. "You should get some rest. I don't think tomorrow will be as nice as this."

Maerad sat silently and observed him as he got up and walked a few feet away. He stood there with his arms crossed, a solemn statue against the rippling waves of wind that blew across the plains below. When he realized she hadn't lain down, he turned to face her. "Is something wrong?"

"No," she lied and faked a smile. It was the first time she had wanted him to lay next to her, to cradle her in his arms until she fell to sleep. But she couldn't ask for such a display of affection; not now – not after deciding to leave him. "Good night, Cadvan."

He mirrored her facial expression and turned away. Maerad watched him for a few more moments and then lay down, attempting to fall into comfortable sleep.

~oOoOo~

Sometime in the middle of the night, Maerad heard something at the edge of her hearing and sat up. Cadvan had fallen asleep near her and she smiled; if he felt it safe enough not to keep watch all night, then there was nothing to worry about. She lay back down, observing his peaceful face for a few minutes before she heard branches snapping in the woods nearby. She set a ward about herself and Cadvan without thinking and drew her sword. The sound was enough to wake Cadvan who mimicked the action.

He sat silently until he, too, heard it. "_I'm not sure what it is; hopefully it travels around our camp," _he said through mindspeech. "_I wish we had a fire." _He scratched at the dying embers and a few sparks flew up into the night air.

"_I set a ward around us," _Maerad replied. She stood up and moved next to Cadvan. "_Do you think we'll be safe?__"_

"_Shh!" _he scolded her. "_Concentrate on what might appear and be ready."_

What seemed like an eternity, they waited. Cadvan rose from his crouched position near the pines. His hands were clenched so tightly around the hilt of his sword that they actually ached. This had gone on entirely too long, he decided. "I don't think -"

A crackle in the bushes broke him off, and a great stag bounded into view, his eyes wild with fright and his antlers flaring above his head. With three huge leaps he was gone. Maerad trembled with surprise.

"Well. I was expecting something a bit more…_frightening_," Cadvan admitted.

"Am I the only one who thinks we avoided the Dark so long that we have grown unused to even animal sounds?" she asked, a smile playing at her lips.

Cadvan shrugged. "Something drove the animal to run like that; we would do well to move on before whatever it was running from comes barreling through."

Maerad agreed and before long they had left the copse of pines behind. Maerad looked to the sky; a dark bank of clouds had spread over most of the sky and a chill wind was blowing. A few large raindrops began to splash on her face, and Maerad subconsciously shivered and gathered her cloak close around her.

Cadvan hurried them onward, anxious to reach the mountain pass, and it seemed to Maerad, he was driven by some other urgency she couldn't guess. The isolated drops were now falling more swiftly and she could hear distant rumblings of thunder. It would not be long before the storm broke over their heads.

A brilliant flash of lightning illuminated their path, for a brief second, before the rain started to pour. Maerad saw glimmering leaves on the tree branches reaching high into the darkness, now boiling and thrashing in the gale. "We haven't far to go," shouted Cadvan over his shoulder. "But hurry! Don't lose me!" and he set off at a brisk canter. Keru wasn't as nervous as Imi would have been; the lightning didn't bother her. She kept close to Darsor but left enough room so that if Cadvan pulled up, they would not collide. Maerad had no time to stop and stare at the growing rivulets of water flowing underneath their mounts; she had to stay close to Cadvan to avoid losing sight of him in the heavy downpour.

Eventually the mountain began running beside them on their left. Maerad had been leaning forward on Keru's back and didn't notice Cadvan heading towards a dark fissure in the rock face until they were entering a cave-like opening. It was pitch-black, like a blanket pulled over her eyes. It made her shiver unconsciously, so wet and cold, to be inside the mountain. She didn't like what it meant; Cadvan had made them stop for a reason.

Cadvan lit a mage light and sucked in a deep breath. "It's going to be a long night."


	4. Chapter Three: The Forest of Imlan

-----**From the Ashes----**

**Chapter Three**

_The Forest of Imlan_

* * *

"_This rain will never cease," _Maerad said through mindspeech. _"And I'm so cold, you would think it was winter already."_

It hadn't taken her long to understand why Cadvan refrained from traveling onward: the storm had quickly turned malevolent. She could neither see nor hear him over the wind, though he sat across from her, resting his back against the rough, damp stone. He hadn't started a fire; there had been no dry wood to salvage. It meant they would wait in drenched clothing, in a pitch-black cave, for the storm to expend its energy. She didn't cherish the idea.

A frown wandered upon Cadvan's lips. "_I am sorry, Maerad. There is little I can do. I, for one, am glad for this weather despite the cold, because it means our scent is masked from whatever dwells in those woods. The mindset of the animals there is not like those of the other forests of Annar; here, the animals seem twisted and misshaped by the Dark."_

Maerad trembled. Were there Goromants, the giant scorpion-like insects that had nearly attacked them in the Weywood? Or Wers that blackened the sky with their outstretched webbed wings? Perhaps there were creatures whose terror had only been mentioned briefly in Ancient Lore...those that had no name in the Speech by which to call them by. The image of a ghastly creature rose in her mind and provoked her to feel her way blindly across the cave. She sat next to Cadvan, and huddled close to steal the warmth from his body. His cloak smelled like wet earth; a hint of sweat was also present._"Are we in danger?" _

Cadvan wrapped an arm around her reassuringly; he didn't want her to be frightened. _"It's possible. But as long as we are here, we have an advantage: a shallow cave, where nothing can approach us from behind. All we need to do is watch the opening."_

Maerad wouldn't admit it, but the thought of a wild animal barging through the rain curtain frightened her more than the thought of fighting off Hulls or Dog soldiers. Not knowing their opponent, or how it would act, made sleep nearly impossible.

~oOoOo~

The rain continued. With little to do in the small cave, the couple passed the time by practicing small charms that would not be seen by outsiders. Maerad was glad for the lessons because it meant her mind would be taken away from her growing doubts about the journey. She couldn't help but question her motivation. _What if Dernhil is truly dead? I am a fool to insist on traveling alone…why don't I want Cadvan to go? _She couldn't see her companion's face, but she imagined he slept deeply; he didn't stir beside her when she shifted her weight as he usually did. A strange yet familiar Knowing told her to travel alone. _What will I do, if I find Dernhil alive? How will I react? Better yet, will he still love me as he once did? _Maerad leaned her head on Cadvan's shoulder. _I do not think I would want him to love me now,_ she thought. _How could I return that love if I love Cadvan? _

_~oOoOo~_

The storm ended four days later when the sun peeked through the slate-colored clouds.

Maerad emerged from the depths of the mountain and greeted the fresh air with a smile, glad to be rid of the stale odor of the cave. Cadvan seemed glad as well, for his face appeared lighter than it had been; the scars on his cheek were not so vivid.

The mischief in his eyes caused Maerad to laugh. "Let's go, Cadvan, before it starts raining again."

He winked and began saddling the horses before they continued onward.

They followed the side of the mountain until the brambles became too tangled for the horses to step through. They doubled back to a break in the forest boundary, and entered under its canopy. It was much darker than Maerad expected; moss and lichens clung to the soaked bark of the trees, some of which grew stunted beneath towering pines. The air was heavy and close, like that of the cave, and Maerad had to resist the urge to grumble. She would be glad to leave it behind.

The road curved back and forth as it threaded its way around imposing, misshapen oaks and rock outcroppings. Dead trees became more infrequent. The leaves of the oak, ash and maple trees sealed the riders away from the last vestiges of the sky, darkening the trail even more. The road began to descend into sodden wood of cedar. A good sign, Cadvan thought sarcastically: cedar often grew where the ground was wet.

The smell of rot assailed him as he followed Maerad in a rush, down through swirls of mist that moved and spun at their passing. Sharp calls and hoots came from the dense vegetation. Woody vines hung from slick twisted limbs of trees that stood in the water on claw-like roots. Smaller, leafy vines spiraled around anything strong enough to hold them. The vegetation seemed to be growing on top of something else, seeking to gain an advantage. Water, dark and still, sat in stagnant pools, sneaking in under clumps of bushes, enveloping stands of thin-bottomed trees. The growth seemed to swallow the sound of their horses' hooves, allowing only the native calls to echo through the forest.

Cadvan began to feel uneasy. He couldn't see it, but he knew _something _was tracking them. _Herding_ them. Fear washed across his features when he turned his ears to the noises. In the distance, he heard the howls of the wolves, a signal that a hunt had begun. _It cannot be._ He clicked his tongue and moved up beside Maerad, who seemed oblivious to the danger. "Draw your sword," he said in a firm voice. She questioned him with her eyes but obeyed silently. "And be careful where you let Keru step; the water seems to deepen here."

The road narrowed into a trail that struggled to remain above the water, making it necessary to slow the horses for fear they would break a leg on the roots hidden in the mire. Cadvan saw that as Maerad's horse passed, the surface of the water rolled in lazy ripples as things moved under it. He heard the snapping of twigs near the top of the bowl. Maerad turned at the sound. If they stayed on the trail, the wolves would be at them in a matter of minutes; they would have to hurry. _Wolves, _he said to himself. _Why would such beasts hunt us? _

"_Lemmach ni ardrost!__" _He yelled using the Speech, but the animals did not heed his warning; instead, the sound triggered a primal instinct that urged them to hasten the attack. Cadvan was stunned watching them run at a faster pace. _"Lemmach,"_ he repeated in a low, threatening voice. No response.

He looked around and spotted an opening in the undergrowth. That would be their escape. He pulled his sword free of its sheath, its distinctive ring sounding across the murky water. "There - " he pointed with the sword to their left. "That opening looks wide enough for us to pass through. We can make it to the mountain where it should be safe again; perhaps the wolves can't swim through this."

He thought it a slim hope, but could think of no better option. He had read once that they would be safe from the animals of this wood in the marshy area - but the parchment hadn't told how; Nelac hadn't explained further, either. The fact that any beasts in Annar would disobey older laws than the Dark after Sharma's death troubled him - they should have been dead if they were under the Dark's influence...

"But why are we running from them?"

"Hurry!" he retorted, awoken from his pondering. Maerad did not hesitate and pulled Keru sharply to the left as they headed toward safety. Cadvan followed close behind and watched up the trail, seeing movement through gaps in the trees. He wasn't worried about the water depth; it seemed to be no more than two or three feet deep, with a muddy bottom. Weed broke from its anchoring and floated to the surface as Keru waded through ahead of him. They were making steady progress towards the mountain.

But then he saw the snakes.

Dark bodies wriggled in the water. They were almost invisible in the gloom, and barely disturbed the surface as they swam. Cadvan had never seen snakes so big. He looked up at Maerad; she was watching the aperture. _The dry land is too far away_, he thought. He knew they would not make it before the serpents reached them. _Why did we come here?_

Cadvan shifted in the leather saddle to see if they could make it back to high ground. Where they had left the trail, the dark shapes of the wolves were gathered. Heads held low, the black bodies paced back and forth, wanting to enter the water to reach their prey. They growled and yipped in excitement.

Cadvan lowered the tip of his sword into the water and let it drag a small wake behind as he prepared to strike the first snake that came close enough. As he did, a surprising thing happened. When the sword dipped into the water, the snakes turned suddenly and squirmed away as fast as they could go. Somehow, the magic in the sword frightened them away. He wasn't sure how, but was glad of it.

They worked their way among the large trunks of trees that stood like columns in the middle of a water palace instead of mire. Each brushed aside vines and moss as they passed. Water ran off the underside of Maerad's horse when it climbed up onto dry land. There were a few pine trees at the high knoll near the mountain, but it was mostly cedar and a smattering of iris that grew nearby. Cadvan turned one last time to see if they were being followed, but neither heard nor felt any lingering danger.

"There it is, Maerad," Cadvan said breathlessly. He halted Darsor and pointed to the trail that led through the heart of Osidh Annova. "The Nirkat Pass."

The fissure in the mountain was wide, big enough for a caravan. Maerad wondered if it had once been frequently used, in the days before Sharma's uprising, as a means to transport goods to Indurain. Its walls were well chiseled by the river that once flowed through the gap. "It leads directly into another forest south of Gilman's Cot. But be wary – something tells me more than humans have used that path."

She wasn't surprised he didn't ask to accompany her, but she had almost wanted him to. The thought of wolves finding another way around the marsh frightened her. "Why didn't the wolves listen to you? You used the Speech."

Cadvan shook his head. He led Darsor to the edge of the small rivulet that branched off the Imlan River, where the horse took large gulps of fresh water. Maerad knew the water source would come in handy if it continued through the mountain as it seemed to; she would need to replenish her supplies at some point. "They don't recognize the Speech, Maerad. Their kind seems to be more ancient than the language of Bards."

She dismounted Keru and stood by his side. Neither spoke as they studied the path before them, each absorbed in their own thoughts. White snow already blanketed the mountain peaks, which meant winter would come swiftly to the valley. If she were to find Dernhil, it would have to be within the next moon phase. If not, she wouldn't make back to Innail before the snow incapacitated the pass._ I could quite possibly die if I don't hurry. _The thought propelled her into action. She made to turn when Cadvan suddenly gathered her into his arms and kissed her mouth. She hesitantly broke the contact; she couldn't be distracted by her feelings for him. She had to do this. "So we come to it."

He caressed her face and nodded. He wanted to tell her about the snakes, how his magery had driven them away, but he couldn't find the words. None of it made sense. He remembered the food he had brought, and handed the pack to her. She took it gratefully. "May the light travel with you. Remember, your sword is your best friend now."

Maerad couldn't help but embrace him tightly. "No, my love,_ you _are and will_ always_ be my best friend." She gazed into his blue eyes for a moment before adding, "How are you going to make it back without being attacked? Those wolves will be waiting for you, Cadvan."

"I can travel further south until the forest ends, and cut back to Innail on the open plains." He seemed to hesitate. "How will I know if you are safe if I am not by your side? I may be a truth-teller but I cannot see into the future..."

"I will be safe, Cadvan. I promise," she replied. He leaned forward to give her one last lingering kiss, before either accepted what was happening. Their journey together was complete; she would be on her own. There was no turning back...

She gathered her reins and began walking Keru towards the path. She didn't dare to look back and see Cadvan watching her leave. _"So it begins,"_ she whispered.


	5. Chapter Four: The Nirkat Pass

-----**From the Ashes----**

**Chapter Four**

_The Nirkat Pass_

* * *

Leaving Cadvan proved to be more difficult than Maerad expected. She met his gaze before she rounded a stone outcropping, and a sudden fear crept over her heart like a sheet of ice. She had only been without him for a few months after the accident in the Gwalhain Pass, when she thought he had been killed, when her own life had almost been claimed by the WinterKing. Would this end in the same fashion? Would she be safe without his guidance?

His dark eyes roamed across her features, imploring her to turn and run back to him and safety; it took all her strength not to. His dark, shoulder length hair whipped into his eyes and blinded him, but he did not blink. The scar under his cheek stood out vividly against the dark rings that betrayed his exhaustion. And his love – she could feel it radiate through his skin and it showed in the forced smile he offered before the sight of lichen-covered granite replaced his form. She would miss him, and think of him often, but she knew there was no turning back. She had to find closure to Dernhil's death, and possibly his resurrection.

"_Ifrea me dhana!" _Cadvan warned through mindspeech. Maerad made a mental note to heed his word, though she could travel no where _but_ the trail through the mountain pass.

_~oOoOo~_

The rain continued to fall throughout the day in gray liquid sheets, splashing up from the muddy puddles onto Keru's fetlocks. Maerad hoped to regain time, travelling quickly through the mountain, but the last traces of daylight retreated from the mountains earlier than expcted. The dark interval before moonrise had begun, and she was forced to take shelter in a small indent in the mountain face. With the possibility of lighting a fire as doused as her clothing was, sleep eluded her; cries of night animals didn't help ease her fears.

She started early again the next morning, her legs heavy and sore with tiredness, but talking to Keru took her mind off the physical discomfort. "_If we can continue at this pace, we should make it before nightfall. I would hate to stay in this Pass another night." _She erased the growing image of Cadvan and Darsor being swallowed by snow and stone from her mind as she spoke.

"_I will be glad to leave this mountain behind," _Keru replied, trudging along slowly. "_Something feels wrong here."_

Maerad understood what the horse meant. Ever since the pack of wolves had chased them, she had kept her hearing attuned to all the sounds around her; she didn't quite trust any of the creatures here, not even the small birds that sometimes flew above their heads as they passed. Death seemed to be creeping up fron the mists, and though she knew the Landrost had receded into next to nothingness, she kept the walls around her mind guarded; there could still be lingering spies that had yet to give up Sharma's cause. "_Keru…do you think this is a bad idea?" _Maerad asked softly. Doubt was beginning to grow in the young woman's mind.

"_I think that perhaps we should not have left your friend,"_ the horse answered simply. "_We do not know our way, and to him and Darsor, we are infants to this world." _Keru threw her head up as she slipped on a stone. The trail was thinning into a winding path that slithered like a snake around boulders and outcroppings. In some places, it narrowed so much that the bay mare hardly fit between the reeds that grew through crevices in the hard stone and the pitfalls that lay hidden within them.

Maerad's ears prickled when she heard a faint growl.

She paused for a breath and studied her surroundings. Because of the way the granite outcroppings ahead were positioned, it was impossible to see more than twenty or thirty feet ahead. She had no doubt that she was close to the forest; no animal could live on the mountain, though she didn't dare think of what could live _within_ it. Driven by a force she couldn't begin to fathom, she approached the boulders, wary of what might lie beyond them. She tried to take another calming breath. She drew her sword from its scabbard, and approached the bend carefully. As she rounded it, she clamped her hand over her mouth.

The trail had dropped away from the mountain! A constant, steady decline of boulders and mountain rubble covered with sparse scrub and the odd tree bent against the harsh winds that swept down from the mountains, the Osidh Annova, eastern border of the Inner Kingdom, dotted the steep incline. The rudimentary track she'd been travelling swooped down the mountain and ended at the edge of the great forest, ablaze with oranges and reds, with an occasional fir that had retained its green hue. It was beautiful, but she knew getting down would be dangerous. The precipice was at least a hundred feet or more above the treeline.

Maerad sighed and dismounted, and led Keru to the edge. The horse looked as dubious as Maerad felt, and followed with reluctance, her tail jammed between her back legs and her ears pressed flat against her skull, snorting violently each time her hooves slipped. Slowly and painfully they picked their way, foot by foot, down the steep slope. Maerad tried to concentrate on keeping one foot in front of the other, but each time she lost her balance and slipped, she could only imagine herself being thrown over the edge to crash into the trees below. By the time the duo reached the bottom, her hands were raw and bleeding from falls, and her energy was all but expended.

The forest came right to the edge of the mountain, a chaotic tangle of vegetation. Maerad looked around in despair. _How are we going to get through this snarl of trees? _In places it was an impenetrable wall of briars and brambles higher than their heads, and everywhere, rotting in the dim light, were the fallen corpses of trees, overgrown with moss and creepers. It reminded her of the Waywood and for a brief moment, she felt a sense of comfort.

But there was no path... she remembered Cadvan's warning about straying from it, but if it no longer existed, she had no choice. "We have to find a way through this, trail or no trail, unless you wish to travel back up the mountain."

_"I refuse to go back up," _the horse snorted. The wind began a low screaming sound as if trying to break free of some unseen prison, and Maerad tried to remember everything Cadvan had told her about the forest, but he hadn't said much. She knew ancient beasts, untamed and unknowing of the Speech lurked in its shadows, and remembered how slaves that had tried to escape the Cot had never returned from its depths.

She shivered. It would be completely dark before much longer. If she were going to learn anything about this place before then, she would have to hurry. Putting her mind to this task she'd given herself and refusing to think beyond that, she pulled out her sword and cut an opening in the vegetation.

~oOoOo~

It didn't take long to discover upon entering the forest that she had reached the lowest point of land; with the closely bunched peaks and valleys behind her, it was nearly impossible to gain a true perspective of what the area looked like. She couldn't imagine any animals living around the barren cliffs, and yet the occasional faint yapping of coyotes was proof that she wasn't alone.

However, not every sound came from the coyotes or the wind as it made its way around the rocks.

A crow flew nervously from the top of a dead tree and cawed. Motionless, she studied the great sweep of land, pulled the wild wind into her lungs, absorbed the cry of unseen carnivores, and then focused in on the present. She needed a fire and shelter; without it, she would not survive the night. She unsaddled Keru when she found what looked to be like a safe hamlet of firs, and wandered into thick brush to find firewood that was somewhat dry. A horrible stench lingered there, like rotting flesh, and though she reentered her camp with an armload of wood, she felt more nervous than she had before. She lit the fire using Magery, and lingered by its edge for a few minutes. After days of rain, the heat almost stung, and the ice that had begun building inside of her bones was already beginning to melt. Looking up from the fire, she nearly fell backwards.

_The tree_. _Spikes of birch and elm…small pines and hemlock, all bent in still grief... This was the place! _

"Keru, this is it! I saw this place in my dream! He sat beneath _that_tree!" With a rush of excitement, she walked towards it. She was here, so quickly, so close to what she wanted that she forgot about everything around her except that she had found it. Dernhil had to be alive, he had to…why else would she have seen this place?

And then came crushing pain unlike anything she had felt before.

It all happened so quickly that when she collapsed to the forest floor, slightly thrown ahead of where she had been standing, her face lay near the rotted carcass of what resembled a dead horse.

In a frenzy, she dragged herself backwards. She couldn't think straight. _Metal teeth. My leg. In my leg... A trap? _

"Keru!" she cried. "Please. Keru. I need - "

A branch snapped behind her – something drew so close that it forced a shiver down her spine. Tears dampened her cheeks, and she would have prayed if she knew whom to pray to.

_Dernhil? Where are you? Please...if you are alive help me._

"Kemmach!" she shouted at steel buried in her leg, hoping it would spring back open and release her; nothing happened.

"Se Kemmach!" she shouted again, desperately trying to pull her leg free. It was no use. The trap had been set and baited for a large animal…for something that ate meat. Her skinny, frail calf was nothing against the pressure it exhorted against her muscles and her bone. She writhed in pain.

"Keru?" The horse didn't answer. She tried for the next several minutes to free herself and when it failed, she lay still. She couldn't get it off by herself; she needed help.

A snap sounded again, this time near where the horse had been. She turned to the best of her ability and saw only the meager fire casting shadows across her deserted camp. She began to feel sick, and noticed the growing pool of blood under her leg. Her vision faded slightly as she reached forward, and in the pain caused from touching the wound, she blacked out.

She woke up to the scream of a horse. Something big landed nearby and the forest exploded with activity. The fire had gone out. _How long has it been? _In the darkness, Maerad could see nothing. A struggle ensued and the forest became silent. _No. Keru. Please._

"Noroch!"

The white flame hit a nearby tree and it splintered into many pieces. The magery used to cast the spell had taken most of her energy, leaving her weak. She had to find her sword. She winced as she swept her shaking hands through the leaves, desperately searching. Another limb broke off nearby and the same low-pitched growl she had heard in the pass. Her head was spinning, her entire body cold and damp...

She lifted her hands in vain, trying to think of something to do, of a way to save herself and her horse that had already fallen victim. She felt the ground vibrate and heard the rustling of leaves as the animal ran forward. She sucked in a deep breath. She waited. And time seemed to come to a screeching halt. _The trail. Why did I leave it?_If she had just listened…if Cadvan had come with her...but it would not matter soon. Soon, she would feel nothing, would be nothing. The end was coming.

But as soon as the pain should have ended, a brilliant flash blinded her.

There was no heat, no cold. Her eyes beheld light and dark together in a single, spectral vision, while her lungs swelled with the sweet presence of death as she breathed it into her soul. It was rapture.

Abruptly, it ended.

Sights exploded about her. Trees. Rocks. Leaves. Blood. Her soul seemed to grip at her in terror.

_Breathe,_ it told her.

The thought horrified her. _"No."_

_Breathe,_ it told her again.

She remembered herself. She was Maerad, savior of Edil-Amarandh. She had defeated Sharma, and had found her brother. She loved and was loved.

Maerad let out the sweet breath, emptying her lungs of the rapture. With a reluctant yet needful gasp, she sucked in the alien air. Sounds rushed in around her - crows, insects, bats, leaves in the wind, all chattering, whooping, clicking, whistling, rustling- painful in their omnipresence. And with those sounds the pain returned.

Pain.

Something had given way in her leg, something hot and stinging. It felt different. And...someone was carrying her, gently, yet hurrying with some great urgency. She could hear a voice filter into her perception, so lyrical in its sound that she would have jumped from the man's arms despite her injury that slowly stole her life away. "_Maerad."_

_It can't be._

* * *

**Author Note: **I'm sorry it took so long for me to update this. I know it could be better, which is why I always encourage feedback and always say that my works are, even when finished, works in progress. I think everyone has room for improvement. With that said, some things might be tweaked here and there in this story, but for the most part, it will stay the same. Thanks everyone!


	6. Chapter Five: Safety

_Author note: This chapter is a re-post; I had to edit a few details before uploading...*drumroll*... the next chapter! Feel free to re-read this chapter (or the whole story, for that matter) to get caught back up...I'll be the first to admit that I have been more than neglectful in updating any of my writing._

-**From the Ashes-**

**Chapter Five**

_Safety_

* * *

Dernhil hated being in the Imlan forest. It wasn't at all similar to the woods of Annar, which despite being ancient, housed non-threatening life forms. This forest was another matter entirely - it had been completely poisoned by the Dark _before_ the Great Silence. Darkness had seeped into the riverbeds, into the wildlife, and even into the heartwood of the trees. The beasts he had encountered here were unlike anything he had ever seen or read about in lore; these animals never slept, and never tired of blood. Four times had he fought what he named the _imead_, and four times had he narrowly escaped death. _Narrowly. _

The term itself literally meant _"deathless ones"_ in the Speech, for he could think of no other word to describe the appearance of such an animal. He was certain that the Nameless One had created these beings, just as it was him that had caused the land once known as Indurain to become forsaken. He was surprised to find that people he knew from his youth would settle in such a place, though he was grateful to have found them again.

He used a pine branch to rouse the fire back to life. Yes, they were good people, old friends that he had lost contact with when evil truly began to stir again in the heart of Edil-Amarandh, in a time of great sadness.

He rubbed his forehead and winced, remembering the terrible night that had led him to where he sat now, alone and cold.

"_We have come for a little information, Dernhil of Gent. Help us and our master will reward you richly."_

A sarcastic grin tugged at the corners of his mouth; he had been rewarded indeed and he had the scars, both mental and physical, to prove it. But it was the ever present knowing that the Hulls were no more and that the Nameless One had been defeated that led him to smile and laugh to himself in that moment. Perhaps his willingness to defend the secret of Maerad and Cadvan to the death had led them to succeeding in their mission to vanquish the Dark. He wondered what the Bards of Innail would say in praise to him then, and how his jealous friend Cadvan would react.

His smile waned. It had been over a year and a half since he had seen them, or anyone else for that matter. He felt like an exile, trapped in the wilderness like a madman. Of course, that was far from fact. He came here to save himself from further danger, and he had Amgor and Aryella, but the war was over. There was no reason to hide now. And sooner or later, he would leave this place, with or without them.

A shriek sounded deep within the forest and stirred him from his thoughts.

_It's time then,_ he noted.

He had set the hunting traps several weeks before; too many times had they been attacked. He fervently wished the sound came from a wounded carnivore stuck in painful misery rather than one who had averted the danger to warn his peers. He rose in anxiousness and put out the fire. He gathered his small pack and began his travel deeper into the woods. In one form or another, he'd get his revenge.

~oOoOo~

The farther he traveled, the more he felt something press against the edge of his Knowing, something familiar yet completely alien. It tingled, burned even, and it nearly drove him insane as he fought against the fear it brought into his mind. _It is certainly magery, _he thought to himself. _But no Bards travel here. Why would a Bard come here? No one knows about any of this..._

The feeling intensified and began to wear on Dernhil's nerves. It was far too like the lessons he once endured with his younger brother, who would stalk him silently, wanting to attack, yet fearing his wrath – and at the same time, it was completely different. _Who is there? Who would come into this forest, out of all places?_

Finally, when he was completely unnerved, he made the move he'd been expecting himself to do all along – an all-out rush at full-strength and full-force, the kind that had bowled him over time after time as a youngster- the kind that had ended with broken bones and bruises. But he wasn't an adolescent now; he was a battle-seasoned veteran. Whatever he came upon, he would be prepared for. His boot soles scuffed on the bark of the downed trees as he bounced himself over them. His cloak occasionally got stuck on the thick underbrush, but he kept up his pace, towards the sound that grew louder, and the magery that he could almost taste.

A brilliant flash illuminated the woods to his left and a moment later a loud crack sounded as the tree splintered into a thousand pieces. Blinded and deafened by the attack, he crouched low and watched in disbelief. He couldn't see the Bard that had attempted to hit the _imead_, but he wondered why the attack had stopped. It was suicide to think that these creatures would be frightened by such a display; if anything, it angered them. He had learned that lesson the hard way.

He reached out with his mind in an attempt to identify the Bard. It was a chore, one that seemed to take ages, but in reality only took a few seconds. It became obvious who the Bard was, though he didn't wish to believe it; he couldn't believe it. He was so stunned that he failed to notice that the largest _imead_ had turned towards the young woman. Saliva dribbled from its open mandible, and its wild, red eyes fixated on the one thing it desired.

_React! _

Adrenaline coursed through the Bard's veins and enabled him to throw his hands into the air. _"Noroch!" _

There was a quick yelp before the animal felt limp onto the ground. For all their bulk, the _Imead_ could move as quickly as a striking snake and those left standing turned on him. He somehow got his sword unsheathed in time to deflect the first blow and then continued into a strike with the sword's edge at the nearest one's face. It spun out of the way, and let its own momentum carry it out of sword range. The next reached out and seized Dernhil's arm, latching on and ripping at his flesh as he brought his sword back to counterattack. Pain spasmed across his face. With his free hand, he called on the Speech again to take down the second animal, leaving only one left.

It stood a distance away with its teeth bared. He stole a glance at Maerad, who had since passed out. He then saw the metal trap embedded in her calf, and the growing pool of blood there. Nearby lay her sword.

_No..._

He sucked in a deep breath. He had no energy to waste on another spell; he would have to kill this one with his own strength and sword.

As it prepared to pounce, Dernhil switched sword hands, glad for the relief it brought to his injured forearm. The animal leaped into the air and he braced himself, rushed forward, and impaled it on his sword. which lodged in the muscle's of the creature's chest. He could not pull it out. The animal hissed in anger, and swiped at him with a massive paw. Dernhil ducked and rolled out of the way just in time. The black, sinewy, cat-like creature recovered quickly, and Dernhil scrambled to his feet. It pounded fast behind him. His heart beat quickly.

_Two steps to go._

Hot, rotten breath warmed his neck.

_One._

He reached down, grabbed Maerad's sword, and spun around. The animal bowled into him, driving the sword upwards into its chest cavity, its forward motion sending both beast and Bard tumbling. A few moments later the fight was over.

Dernhil jumped up, covered in the blood of himself and the _Imead, _and went to Maerad.

"Maerad."

He shook her. She wasn't breathing.

"Maerad!"

He let his instincts take over. He brought his mouth down upon hers, and forced air into her lungs. _"Breathe, Maerad."_

He felt her flinch, as if the thought of living frightened her. _"No,"_ she responded.

His heart raced, glad for a response, and he gave another. "_Breathe."_

He continued this process until she began coughing, sucking in air violently. He brought her up into a sitting position to help her recover oxygen, and looked more closely at her leg.

"It's a wonder you survived this long if you stepped into this trap so easily," he frowned, looking back at her face. She met his glance, though he could tell she was still dazed and confused. "I must leave it in your leg until we get to a safer place, or you will bleed to death."

He had to get the stake out without disturbing the trap.

Dernhil crouched with one foot on the chain that connected the trap to the stake, and seized the stake in both hands. In one smooth move he rose and pulled the stake up with him, wincing at the sound of Maerad's groan.

"Quiet," he whispered. "We must be quiet."

She responded in a faint mumble. She was losing too much blood. He lifted her dress to her knee and saw the extent of the damage; the teeth had punctured the leather of her boot, and most likely fractured the bone in her leg. He ripped a piece of the dress off and tied the fabric tightly around the area, all the while pondering the situation in his mind.

_Maerad. _The woman he had dreamed of, the woman that he loved, his friend that he had nearly died for, was next to him, living, breathing...

_But not for long if you don't hurry._

_"Cadvan…"_

"Cadvan?" he looked up and frowned. He did not feel the presence of his friend and his heart raced within his chest. Had Cadvan fallen prey as well? "He came with you? Where is he?"

"...should've listened…"

"Maerad," he whispered. "Where is Cadvan?"

She opened her eyes and stared at him, her eyebrows furrowing in what he soon realized was fright. Her lips made an O, but before she had the chance to make a sound, he clamped a hand over her mouth. _"Don't,"_ he said through mindspeech. _"Those," _he pointed to the three dead bodies around them, "_are not the only ones left in this forest. The others have already heard this fight, and have smelled our blood. We must move quickly. If we continue to make noise, we will both be as dead as your horse."_

"I came alone," she choked out.

This complicated things. He knew Cadvan; he would not simply let a woman, let alone Maerad, walk into such an uninhabited region by herself. But he saw no sign of his friend, nor felt no trace of his magery. "_I must take you to Amgor and Aryella. I'll be able to take care of you much better with their help."_

"Am_..."_ Maerad attempted to say. Dernhil could feel her strength waning. She was slipping back into unconsciousness.

He noted the beads of sweat beginning to form around her hairline. Her skin was pale, her breathing labored.

"We will make it," he assured, rising to his feet. "It may take us some time, but I will carry you there, and we will be safe. I promise."

He left her for a moment to retrieve his sword. _She is frightened because of what just happened. Surely she will believe that I am who I appear to be. But what if she doesn't? How can I prove that to her? How can explain all that happened?_

As if she had heard his thoughts, Maerad faintly spoke. "I'm dead...like _you_."

He didn't know what to say. She wasn't in a state to understand the situation anyway, he reminded himself. He returned and crouched down beside her, gently picking her up. "Rest, My- Maerad."

She was already unconscious and didn't notice his mistake.


	7. Chapter Six: Reunion

_Author note: I apologize that I neglected this story for so long; life has had a way of pulling me away from writing and back into reality. However, I did find the time to write this chapter, so for those of you who still read this story, this is for you - enjoy, and as always, I love to hear your feedback!_

* * *

**-From the Ashes-**

**Chapter Six**

_Reunited_

* * *

Dernhil couldn't remember how long he'd carried Maerad before his body forced him to a halt.

He could barely breathe; his lungs were gasping for air, drinking it in. Sweat poured down his face in rivulets, stinging his eyes that were already straining in the darkness. At least the _Imead _had abandoned their chase; he imagined they were likely feasting on their fallen comrades.

He shivered unconsciously; death had lingered uncomfortably close for far too long. It was a feeling he was sure Maerad could sympathize with, were she conscious.

He put an ear to her chest, listening for a heartbeat. At first there seemed to be nothing, but then he felt her pulse, faint and irregular, and breathed out with relief. His hands began to glow as he summoned a mage-light and cast it up through the trees and into the sky, hoping someone - his friend Amgor - in particular, would see its brightness and come to assist him. He didn't want to think of what else would see it. _Or if Amgor isn't watching..._

He waited in that place for what seemed a very long time. He took a moment to check the makeshift bandage he'd placed over Maerad's leg; it was soaked with blood. He cursed and checked his own wound. It, too, still bled, though he only cared because it limited his ability to fight and carry Maerad. _Of course, none of this would have happened if you hadn't set those traps in the first place, _he reminded himself.

"Dernhil?" he heard a familiar voice call out. The sound of snapping twigs and shuffling drawing closer livened the forest with welcome sound.

"_Amgor, walk to your right, and keep quiet!" _he replied through mind speech.

A few moments later, Dernhil could make out the tall, dark outline of the man working his way towards him through the underbrush. "Perhaps you should stay close at night, instead of daring to trap vile things," Amgor grumbled as he pushed branches aside to join Dernhil in the forest opening. "Though I can't say I - "

He stopped when he saw Maerad. He looked to Dernhil with questioning eyes, his brows arched. "Who is _she_? What happened?"

Dernhil could think of a thousand answers to Amgor's questions, but decided on the simplest. "Maerad of Pellinor," he said. "And I need help carrying her; we're both injured."

~000ooo000~

"_Here in this universe? Or here in Imlan at this particular moment? Be more specific." _

The words were hushed; Maerad could barely hear them as she drifted in and out of consciousness.

"_If you can answer the universe one, go right ahead. But I meant here, in this wood, alone,"_ a different, raspier voice replied. She could feel pressure around her ankle, accompanied by a dull, throbbing pain._"Why would she come _here? _Did she know you were here?_"

"_Give this to her; I'm at the worst of it and I don't want to risk her waking."_

In the blackness, something came forward. She thought it felt like a finger, poking into her mouth. "Swallow this."

Maerad writhed as the pain doubled in severity and spread like fire throughout her leg.

"Swallow! Do you hear me? Swallow!"

Making a sour face, she did as commanded. The finger pushed more of the dry things into her mouth. "Swallow again!"

She swallowed, hoping the voice would leave her alone, that the pain would stop.

"Do you think it, enough?" a feminine voice chimed in. "She is still conscious!"

She saw a shadow appear above her. She recognized the feel of a cool cloth as it was placed on her forehead. _"Maerad, if you can still hear me, listen to my voice – focus on it. Ignore the pain and let sleep take you."_

That voice. The same voice she'd heard in her dreams, she was hearing now, for real, speak into her mind. He was touching her...

"_Dernhil..." _

He lifted her head gently and held a goblet of water to her lips. "Drink; it should help."

She drank sparingly at first, allowing the cool, tangy liquid to ease its way down her parched throat. She coughed as a swirling began in her belly, but she managed to quell it. "What -" she croaked.

But before hearing a reply, she allowed the medicine to sink her into a tingling void. She drifted in a nowhere place, unaware. She had no concept of time, no idea how long she floated. When she woke, she blinked at the dim sunlight that fell through a window casement. She didn't recognize the room she was in: she lay in a simple wooden bed, in a room by herself. The walls were painted in a pale blue wash, and her sheets smelled of lemon. By her bed was a jug of water and a cup. She was very thirsty, but she wondered if she had the strength to lift anything, including her body.

After a few minutes, with a great deal of effort, she sat up. For the moment, that was all that she could do, and she sat where she was, leaning against her pillow, frightened by her body's weakness and the aching in her leg, longing for the water. She worked her tongue, trying to wet her dry mouth. She was awake, really awake, for the first time in as long as she could remember. It seemed like she had forgotten what it was like, how vibrant it felt. She did not move, afraid the blackness would return. _How long have I been asleep?_

"Ah, you're awake."

She looked over towards the source of the voice. She still didn't believe it; it could be, _he_ couldn't be. But there he was, tall and slender, his brown hair falling carelessly over his forehead, his expression intelligent and mobile. He wasn't wearing the dark robes he had worn as Innail's librarian; instead he wore a loose white tunic and tan breeches, covered by a dark cloak intricately embroidered along its edges in gold thread. He was, she realized, very handsome. She hadn't really noticed that when they had met; she hadn't wanted to.

He slowly crossed the threshold into the room and sat down next to her on the bed. "How do you feel?"

"My leg is sore, but doesn't really hurt at the moment," she replied.

He nodded. "You were given you enough medicine to prevent that; I'm glad it's helping."

There was a brief pause, one filled with tension and anticipation. "Dernhil, I've missed you...I- I never thought I'd see you again. I saw you in a dream and I saw you die."

Tears threatened her eyes. Without thinking, she leaned into him, embracing him as if to confirm he was a real, living being before her. He returned the hug, though he only touched her lightly, as if she were an eggshell that might break if touched too carelessly.

"I'm sorry that I had to deceive you, Maerad; I had no other choice but to keep you and Cadvan safe."

And then, because he was holding her, because he had risked his life for her, she told him all of it, quite simply: how she and Cadvan had fled from Norloch, how she'd nearly lost Cadvan in the Gwalhain Pass, and her escape from Arkan. She explained the finding of her brother, the battle in Innail and the loss of Oron, the fall of Turbansk, the Singing, and the undoing of the Nameless One. And she hadn't recovered, not nearly, for her heart was small and shivering, and it seemed that she couldn't stop crying despite unburdening herself of what had been won and lost.

He listened, quietly, growing more and more amazed; and when she finished he was silent for some time. He pulled back and considered her and her maimed hand with something of a helpless expression.

"I was insufferable to you the last we met. I've never forgiven myself. But it seems you have been through much hurt in the past year and a half, and you are a stronger person for it."

It was the last thing Maerad had expected him to say.

"I'm sorry for your trials," he continued, an amused expression lighting the shadows on his face. "I am glad you were not alone. You must keep Cadvan around – he's really quite useful isn't he?"

At that she smiled, almost laughed.

He gave her hands back to her, carefully, as if he were afraid they might drop and shatter. He smiled at her softly.

"You never used to look at me straight, but now you do," she said, because she remembered it, and was curious.

He shrugged. "I can think of no reason to distance myself from anyone any longer."

She blinked, surprised into silence.

It was one that didn't last long. "Come," he stood and offered his hand. "I'm sure you are hungry. I'll help you up. If you wish a bath, Aryella can help you afterwards."

She nodded. She was ravenous with hunger and thirst; perhaps after cleaning herself, she could find answers to her questions. For the time being, she focused on the task at hand: getting up from her bed.


End file.
